


(breaking over the) barriers

by Tedronai



Category: Machineries of Empire Series - Yoon Ha Lee
Genre: F/F
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-01-13
Updated: 2019-01-13
Packaged: 2019-10-09 15:06:26
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,885
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17409122
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Tedronai/pseuds/Tedronai
Summary: Khiruev has an unexpected visitor.





	(breaking over the) barriers

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Wakefire](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Wakefire/gifts).



> Yes, the title is from the Anathema song. I was doing my usual "desperately scrolling through playlists for title inspiration" thing when I remembered the song and realised it has a rather Cheris/Khiruev vibe, to me at least. You can listen to it [[here](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=TXFQYX5xSnQ)] if you want to check it out.

General Kel Khiruev had gone to sleep not expecting to be woken up in the middle of the night. The swarm was, according to the latest intel, more than a day away from anything hostile, and right now their presence in this particular location was mostly meant to make sure nothing hostile would decide it was a good idea to get any closer. Some of her officers were getting bored, but Khiruev herself sometimes thought she’d had enough excitement for a lifetime already.

Not that that would stop her from doing her duty should excitement find her.

So when her sleep was interrupted, she was out of her bed and halfway across the room by the time she realised it wasn’t a message from the grid or one of her aides. In fact, as she stopped to reassess the situation, there didn’t seem to be anything that should have alerted her. Frowning, she looked around, only then spotting the servitor hovering in the doorway.

Curious, she took half a step forward. “Hello?” she said. “Do you need something?”

The servitor chirruped cryptically. Then it turned around and scurried back out of the bedroom. Khiruev wrapped a shawl over her pyjamas and followed—

And stopped dead in the doorway.

In the other room, standing in the shadows, was perhaps the last person Khiruev would have expected to find in her quarters in the middle of the night. “Cheris?” The question came out barely above a whisper, and she felt annoyed with herself; she had every right to demand what the intrusion was about.

“General,” Cheris replied. Khiruev switched some of the lights on, not so much as to overwhelm her senses after the darkness but enough to see by. Ajewen Cheris was looking back at her; there was Jedao in her stance, in the set of her shoulders, the way she held her head up as though she was used to being a much taller man, the slight quirk of her mouth, but in her eyes there was something… almost vulnerable.

Khiruev hadn’t seen her since the assassination of the hexarchs, and for most of the intervening time she’d been too busy putting out fires around the borders of the former Hexarchate territory that she’d not had much time to speculate what Cheris might be up to. But she could admit that she’d been— well,  _ concerned _ was the closest word she could think of.

“It’s good to see you,” she said after a short yet awkward pause. “Please, sit. Do you want anything? Tea? Whiskey?”

Cheris’ eyebrows quirked up briefly, and she flashed a small, wry smile that was almost all Jedao. “Thank you,” she said, and it seemed that she was making an effort to not slip into the Spharoi drawl that had become so familiar to Khiruev. “Tea would be nice.”

Khiruev put in the order for tea for two, then took a seat, watching as Cheris looked around the room. These had been her quarters, for a while, when she’d taken over the swarm as Jedao. Of course, Khiruev’s taste in decor was different enough that the space was barely recognisable as the same. Khiruev wondered what  _ Cheris _ liked; back then she’d been so immersed in the act of being Jedao, all the way down to his excessive love of colour, that there had been barely any of Cheris to be found. 

She wondered if Cheris cared about the distinction between her and Jedao’s taste in aesthetics.

“Did you get rid of the watch?” 

The question, voiced in Jedao’s drawl, startled Khiruev and she looked over to where Cheris was standing, looking at the shelves that held her collection of assorted gadgets in various stages of being taken apart and put back together. She’d still been in the process of fixing the watch when Cheris had vanished, mainly because her work had never felt complete enough to part with, and so she had never had the chance to give it to her.

“No,” she replied. She rose and walked over to her desk and took the watch out of one of the drawers. “I finished fixing it.”

There was an odd mix of Jedao and something softer, almost melancholy, in the smile that Cheris gave her. “I’m glad.”

A servitor arrived with the tea, and the moment—whatever it had been—was over. Cheris nodded her thanks to the servitor, and Khiruev suddenly realised that Jedao’s odd relationship with the servitors must have been her all along. It was comforting, somehow, to know that the act had not been perfect after all.

“I  _ am _ glad to see you,” Khiruev spoke again after a while of cautiously sipping the hot tea, “but why are you here?” She could have asked,  _ How did you get here? _ But she decided that was pointless. The training of a Shuos assassin, inherited from Jedao’s memories, combined with the ability to get servitors to help you was clearly useful in getting into places unnoticed. 

The look in Cheris’ eyes became distant and she went very still, but it was still  _ her _ —as much as she ever was; Jedao was never far away—as she replied, “I’m going after Kujen.”

Nirai Kujen, the immortal hexarch and quite possibly the single most dangerous man in the universe. Khiruev wished she could have found it in her to try and talk her out of it. Instead she asked, “What can I do?” A distant part of her was proud of how steady her voice was.

Cheris contemplated the question a while. “For now, I just need you to keep this conversation between us,” she said. Again, Khiruev had the feeling that she was making a conscious effort to keep any trace of Jedao out of her voice. She didn’t entirely succeed. “In fact, tell nobody you’ve seen me. It will be safer for us both.”

Khiruev could have said a thing or two about how much safety meant to a Kel; she could have asked why tell her at all if there was nothing she could do to help; but this was not the time. Instead, she nodded. “Anything I can do.”

But Cheris seemed to somehow hear the things she left unsaid. “The reason I’m telling you,” she said, preemptively waving off Khiruev’s protests that she needn’t explain herself, “the reason I came here—one of the reasons, anyway—is that I  _ need _ somebody to know that I haven’t abandoned you all.” This was Cheris, all Cheris; Jedao wouldn’t have been burdened by any such need. The hint of a wry smile when she continued, however, was more fox than not. “I know what Brezan must be thinking, and I’m sure he’s not the only one.”

She wasn’t wrong. Absurdly, Khiruev felt embarrassed that she hadn’t been able to fully convince their allies that Cheris was still fighting the same battle in her own way. Hell, even that Cheris was still on their side. “I never doubted you,” she said, because she felt like she should say something, and because it was true.

The smile turned softer, almost sad. “I know. That’s another reason I came here.” she didn’t elaborate on that, and Khiruev couldn’t make herself ask.

Silence fell. Khiruev picked up the watch again and turned it in her hands as she contemplated her options. She should keep things strictly professional; even without the formation instinct, anything else would only complicate matters. But any time now Cheris would stand up and leave, and nobody knew whether she would survive her quest to rid the universe of Nirai Kujen. Khiruev might not get another chance.

“I should—”

“I wanted to—”

They spoke up at the same time, and both cut off, looking at each other with a comically startled expression. Cheris recovered first. “You go on.” It was fairly obvious what she’d been about to say, after all.

Feeling a bit foolish, Khiruev held out the wristwatch. “I was going to give this to you.”

“Oh. Yes, I remember you said that, but I didn’t give you the chance.” Something warm blossomed in the depths of Cheris’ eyes as she held out her wrist, but her smile was almost shy. “Would you mind..?”

Khiruev’s hands wanted to shake as she leaned closer and fastened the watch around Cheris’ wrist. She was almost surprised that she managed it without awkward fumbling. When that was done, however, she didn’t withdraw her hands. Instead, she held Cheris’ hand and looked up to meet her eyes again. What she saw in them made her breath catch.

“May I..?” Khiruev whispered, though she only had a vague idea what she was asking permission to do. Cheris nodded, as though afraid to speak, her breath coming fast and shallow. Khiruev was keenly aware of the frantic racing of her own heart as she brought Cheris’ hand to her lips and kissed the slender fingers. She heard Cheris inhale sharply, felt her flinch, and looked up again, concerned.

Cheris was looking back at her with such terrible longing and fear that for a frozen moment Khiruev was sure she’d made a mistake, she’d ruined things—again—before anything had ever had a chance to happen. Then Cheris spoke, her voice a ragged patchwork of accents and emotions, “This is…” She faltered, regrouped, tried again. “It’s not—”

It was not difficult to figure out what she meant, what she was worried about. Khiruev shook her head. “No,” she said, as firmly and steadily as her own inner storm allowed. “This is not some odd remnant effect of formation instinct.” Even if she’d still been afflicted, Cheris was not her commanding officer, hadn’t been for a while, but she understood why Cheris would want to make sure. “This is…  _ real _ .” As real as anything she’d ever felt; as liable to get both of them hurt and she really,  _ really _ shouldn’t have— 

But there was no taking it back now. Nor did she want to. Gently, she drew Cheris closer and into her arms, and Cheris let her. As the moment stretched on, Khiruev couldn’t help but be painfully aware of how little time they had if Cheris wanted to get out again before anyone else found out that she’d ever been there. It made her want to hold on tighter, as if she had any right to ask Cheris to stay.

Cheris was the first to break the silence. “I should go.” But she made no move to pull away; if anything, she leaned more heavily into Khiruev, pressing her face into the shawl around her shoulders. “I wish I could stay longer.”

“I know,” Khiruev replied softly. They both had their duty; this brief moment of respite had already been more than she could have asked for. “So do I.”

Letting go when Cheris finally stirred was the hardest thing Khiruev had ever done, but she voiced no complaints. When Cheris was leaving, however, she couldn’t help herself. “Please be careful,” she said, knowing fully well how foolish it must sound in context. For one, Cheris didn’t need to be told; and another, ‘careful’ might well not cut it against Nirai Kujen. Khiruev refused to think about the latter. “Please, come back.”

Cheris smiled, Jedao’s smile but with an undercurrent that was purely Cheris. “I’ll do my best.”


End file.
